Hold Out Your Hand
by Quil Explodes
Summary: For the Seven Kisses challenge. SiriusxRemus.


_I do not own Harry Potter. Title is from the song by Chris Squire._

* * *

It is the end of first year. Sirius will not move from the dormitory.

"How do you expect me to go back now?"

"What d'you mean, _now_?" James demands, waving his wand irritably. He is holding his trunk, and it is painfully heavy. Annoyance at Sirius, at the moment, it greater than pity for Sirius.

"I never knew there was anything better, and now I've got you all, and how do you expect me to survive a whole _three months_ without you?"

"You'll live," Remus says. _I do_, he adds, thinking of the three long months and the three long full moons that will be, somewhat, a relief, but more, an agony, without these three boys to go back to after every night of hell, unknowing as they are.

"Maybe," Sirius mumbles grudgingly, looking at Remus from under his hair. "But maybe not," he adds dramatically.

"Look, Sirius." James has set down his trunk and he now leans against the nearest bed. "You've--"

"Wait!" Peter shouts. "I got it. Okay. So. This summer..." He pauses for effect.

"Yes, Peter?" Sirius says with mock patience.

"You try to corrupt your brother and bring him to Gryffindor with the rest of...er, you. And you write us all every day to tell us about it."

"And don't forget a good few pranks. You can make it fun, Sirius." Remus smiles encouragingly.

"Well," James adds, "maybe not _fun_, exactly, but bearable. Here--" He opens his trunk, rummages around in the mess, and pulls out a small bottle. "Itching powder. I think you know what to do with it." But he coughs and mutters _yourmother'sunderweardrawer_ under his breath, looking at Sirius with a grin only worthy of James Potter.

"If I don't get fatally scared by that image, I'll see you all next year, then," Sirius says, with a look that is a cross between depression and humor.

"Don't be stupid, Sirius, there's still the train ride back. And Mum said she'll write to your mum and ask if you can visit."

"Good luck with _that_," Sirius says sarcastically. "Honestly, be glad if you get your owl back."

Peter shudders. "They are really horrible, aren't they?"

"They will _eat your owl_--"

"Yes, Peter," Sirius says slowly. "If you hadn't noticed from the Howler. And the cousins. And--"

"Yes, yes," Remus says briskly. "But just forget about it for the next few hours."

"I'll try."

Sirius tips back onto his heels, and suddenly lurches forward and almost catapults himself into James' arms. He hugs him tightly, pulls away, and places a quick but firm kiss on his cheek. Remus is next, and he holds on to Sirius as tightly as Sirius is holding onto him, and ruffles his hair after Sirius' lips leave his skin.

Sirius smiles through his blush, gives Peter a quick hug, and bounds out of the dormitory.

* * *

Remus is staring into space. But space means somewhere between James and Sirius, and suddenly a swift paper airplane buoyed by magic flies into his line of vision.

"Nope," James says, casting a sideways glance at Remus, who feels his heart pick up a beat in anxiety. "Not good. Too slow. Too bright." He rifles through the book on his lap and mutters something, tapping the airplane with his wand, turning it black.

"No way," Sirius says. He snatches the airplane out of the air, crumples it, and throws it into the fire. He is looking at Remus is much the same way as James was, only this is Sirius, so it is more intense, more accusing, more hurtful.

"Bloody hell, Remus," he says angrily. "Just tell us!"

Rems tries to stay calm, because he knows it will be more suspicious if he freaks. But they've been at him for hours, _days_, and he can't stand it any longer. He looks around almost frantically and catches sight of Peter, who is sitting and watching, a thoughtful look on his face.

"Er...tell you what?"

Sirius snorts, Peter smiles sadly, and James sighs, his nimble fingers folding another airplane.

--

"Whatever it is...I wouldn't care. You know that."

"Yes."

"Don't you?"

"You think so. But you will."

"Why do you have such little faith in us?"

"Sirius...I don't. It wouldn't be your fault."

"Not our fault, if we hated you for something you obviously can't control and obviously can't be that bad because you're here and you're not...you know, all weird or anything..."

"Thanks."

"No problem. So?"

--

Remus is crying, and more humiliated than he has ever been in his life.

"Remus. It's okay."

"Yeah." He sniffs. He tries to get ahold of his tears, because apart from being hideously embarrassing, it hurts with each sharp breath.

Sirius runs his thumb across Remus' gently.

"I don't want you to see me--like this. Or anything. I wish you would leave, with James and Peter."

"No, you don't."

Remus sniffs again and turns his face away, pressing it into the pillow. He can never lie to Sirius, and they both know it.

"Go to sleep. Or something. Er..."

"Sorry."

"For _what_?" Sirius laughs. It is so clear and light that Remus can't help but smile. "You, Remus Lupin, are ridiculous. Just so you know."

"Mm." Remus feels his cheeks heat up with a faint blush.

"So go to sleep."

"Or something."

"Yes."

Sirius watches as Remus' eyes are slowly pulled downwards with the influence of Madame Pomfrey's sleeping potions, feels as his grip on Sirius' fingers relax. He stays for a while, just watching, just feeling.

When he stands up to leave he brushes his lips against Remus' forehead lightly, briefly, and, if he wasn't paying attention to every bit of it, it might not have even happened.

* * *

James is talking about girls, and Sirius will do anything to make him stop.

In everything, they are brothers. In everything, they think like one, act like one, speak like one.

Except this.

Lily Evans is beautiful, but she does not make his stomach ache with butterflies and flutter with excitement. Or whatever it was James said, with dazed eyes and a stupid smile.

Yes, girls are pretty, but they are nothing.

Lily Evans is just fun to irritate.

Yes, girls are nice, but that's all.

He has absolutely no desire to snog them.

He blames it on his mother. She (and the rest of his family) traumatized him, neglecting and denying love and affection, so he can't help but be the same.

So that's why he can't keep his hands off Remus, or why he'd rather look at Gideon Prewett's red hair than Lily's.

It's all his mother's fault.

--

It is summer soon, and it is the first time Sirius can remember that he is relieved to go home.

Not happy, not glad--not in any way.

But ridiculously relieved.

The suffocating, evil environment in Grimmauld place is just what he needs.

--

Hogwarts is his favorite place in the world, but there are girls, giggling, and James, talking about them, and gossips, and homework, and Remus with his calmly understanding eyes, though he understands nothing.

--

"You seem happy," Remus says.

Sirius tries not to look at him, so he fiddles with his sleeve and stares at the floor.

"And strange."

Sirius shrugs. It seems forever since that morning, when he and James sat under the willow by the lake and talked about girls.

And it comes to him like the lightbulbs in Peter's Muggle comics.

Tell James.

Or rather, ask James.

--

So he shrugs off Remus' questions (with the heavy weight of guilt weighing down on him) and finds James. He looks oddly sad, sitting on a sofa in the common room, staring at the burnt-out embers.

"James?" Sirius plops down next to him with more reserve than normal for Sirius.

"Hm?"

Sirius blinks and pulls on a loose thread on his robes. "Er."

"Yes?"

"I..."

"What, Sirius?"

"Something's wrong with me."

James looks up instantly, interested. "Ooh, what? Like your abnormal obsession with seeing Nick de-head himself?"

"Erm...no."

James frowns. Even at almost-fourteen, he is annoyingly perceptive.

"What is it?"

Sirius looks around to assure himself that they are alone, then glances first at James, then at his knee.

"I don't know," he says finally.

"Well..." James drags it out. "I really dunno how I'm s'posed to help you."

"I don't think you can."

James rolls his eyes. "Please, Sirius, quit being vague and get to the point."

"Who's bitten you today? Oh, I know, is it Evans?" Sirius teases lightly, but his tone hides acidity.

"Oh, shut it and talk, you bloody prat."

"Because that is completely possible. I'm terribly sorry, James--even _I _can't do that."

James grins, rolls his eyes.

"I...you know how you're always...how Peter was talking about...how you're..." Sirius has absolutely no idea how to say what he has to say. It's probably mostly because he doesn't _know_ what he wants to say in the first place.

"Try breaking it down," James suggests, and Sirius grins.

"Yes, Professor," he says with such a straight face James hesitates for a moment before laughing. "No, but...James, I...okay." He closes his eyes for a moment to clear his head, and is not surprised when it doesn't work. "You say Lily Evans is beautiful. You say that _that_ Ravenclaw over there and _that_ Hufflepuff over there, they're _hot_. I...Peter stares at whatshername in Hufflepuff and you say Lily's hair is bloody brilliant, but I'd rather look at--" He almost says it, he almost says Gideon, he almost says _Remus_, but he takes in James' frown and stops himself just in time.

"I'm going to tell you a story," James says.

Sirius nods. "Okay." He feels an oddly ominous feeling approaching, but that might just have to do with the fact that James Potter is about to start a story.

"I was...maybe eight, or nine--no, it could have been six, but I remember it, so maybe it was later--"

"Anyone ever tell you you're bloody obsessive?" Sirius wonders offhandedly.

"Yes. You. Anyways, I was around eight, sev--all right, all right!--and my great-half-step-uncle, whatever he was, came to visit, with a...friend. I, being, even at the tender age of six--seven--eight, a Marauder once and always, was sneaking around late at night--well, okay, around ten--and happened upon some...happenings...in my great-half-step-cousin-uncle's room."

"...happenings?" Sirius asks, his brow furrowing.

"Aw, ickle innocent Siri-kins!" James teases, reaching across to pinch Sirius' cheek. Sirius swats his hand away.

"James!"

"_Happenings_ meaning my great-whatever uncle-once removed snogging his 'friend'." James tells him, with a waggling of his eyebrows.

"Okay..." Sirius says, obviously not getting the point of this story.

"The friend's a bloke," James says bluntly, with the trace of a smirk on his face--the same kind of expression he gets whenever he knows something Sirius doesn't.

"Oh."

James nods. "Mum told me about it when she caught me."

"She _caught_ you!" Sirius accuses.

"Aw, come on, I was six."

"Eight."

"Whatever. Point is, my mum told me--my uncle wasn't attracted to girls, so he figured he must like blokes--'cause no one's asexual like that."

"Yes."

James frowns for a hundred and third time that day. "What do you mean, _yes_? I give you the answer to all your problems and all you say is _yes_?"

"You think I might be...like blokes instead of girls?"

"Possibly. You said you don't like the girls."

"I _like_ the girls, just not..."

"Do you like the blokes?"

Sirius thinks of Remus and Gideon and everyone else he thinks of with a tinge of guilt. "I suppose." He leaves out specifics for James' sake, though he knows he doesn't care in the slightest.

It's just another thing he loves about James. Another reason he went to him and not to Remus for help.

Not that he thought Remus would mind. Something completely different, really. Something he'd rather not think of, because it makes him feel like he's falling and nothing's the same and good anymore, like it used to be.

"My mother, she...she thinks it's the worst...thing."

"Most pureblood families do, 'cept mine, you know, and decent ones like the Prewetts and Weasleys and such."

"She said the only thing she's hoping for me is that once I've graduated and done something to rid my name of Gryffindor filth I find a nice pureblood girl and marry and carry on the line. That's all she cares about. Bet she won't be too pleased with this."

"Nope, bet she won't."

"Well, no grandchildren for her, unless Reg finds a willing lady somewhere along the line. It's good anyways--kids are a bloody mess."

James smiles slightly.

But Sirius beams. "Excellent," he says, and goes to find Remus.

--

"You know," he says, cocking his head slightly to the side. "I do believe you have marvelous hair."

Remus looks slightly confused, and Sirius doesn't blame him. He has adrenaline and daring running through his veins, questioning and confusing and wonderful.

Still, Sirius tries not to think about exactly how marvelous Remus is. He runs his fingers quickly through his hair and presses his lips to his cheek experimentally, reveling in the feeling for the second that it lasts.

* * *

It is Christmas, and Sirius is standing under the mistletoe.

Remus told him to avoid it--told him there were girls who'd just love to be "caught" under it with him, told him there were girls who'd do things he had no idea of to get it.

Sirius had no idea.

They scare him, to be honest. He has no idea how to react, what to say, where to look. He doesn't even know what's above him until a Ravenclaw with light brown hair points it out to him.

"So?"

"So?" She repeats, slightly mocking, but teasing, flirting. Smiling.

So Sirius takes this as an invitation. He teases, he flirts. He practices for the people who matter.

He feels like the worst person in the world, but he doesn't stop.

He wants to know what James is talking about.

So he charms them into an empty classroom, swallowing as the girl flips her curls and smiles at him.

She smiles knowingly. "You ever do this before?" She asks.

Sirius contemplates between telling the truth and nodding. He settles for a shrug. But she knows what he means, and she blinks at him slowly.

"Okay."

She pulls his face down to hers by his tie. Her lips part. Her lips close. Her eyes close.

So he closes his.

--

"Remus. _Remus_. Help. I've just been accosted by a girl. In an empty Transfiguration classroom. I think I've been scared permanently."

Remus just laughs, his eyes sparkling. "Accosted, you say?"

"She..." Sirius stops and realizes how this will sound. "She tried to kiss me."

Remus gasps. "Oh _no_!" He cries dramatically. "How shall you _survive_?"

"I won't," Sirius replies stubbornly.

"Oh, Sirius," he laughs. "A pretty girl tries to kiss you in a perfectly empty classroom on Christmas Eve and you freak. Only you, Sirius. Only you."

Sirius gets the distinct feeling he's being made fun of, and his eyes narrow. "Stop it, Remus. It's not funny."

Remus raises an eyebrow. "Really? I was under the impression I was supposed to laugh."

"No. What?"

Remus has to laugh, then, at the look of utter confusion on Sirius' face.

"Stop making fun of me!" He says indignantly, and stamps his foot.

They both freeze, and a small smirk forms on Remus' lips. Sirius bursts out laughing, and Remus soon joins him, laughing and almost falling on the floor.

"Anything I can do, help you move on from your traumatizing experience?" Remus asks between laughs.

"I believe there is," Sirius says, straight-faced.

"And that would be...?"

And suddenly their faces are all too close together, and their lips brush together for a split second, and Sirius is gone.

* * *

Sirius finds him hiding in the bathroom, his head in his knees. He looks up when he hears Sirius entering, and the tears are pouring down Remus' face, his nose is red, he looks like _hell_, but Sirius has never loved anyone more.

"Padfoot," he says. "Padfoot, Padfoot, _Padfoot_." He grins through his tears, knocking his head back against the cold bathroom tiles behind him. "I love it. I love it. I love you, Padfoot. I love you. Gods."

Sirius ignores how his heart seems to flutter, and he smiles.

"Love you too, _Moony_."

Remus laughs, half crying. "I can't tell you. You wouldn't understand. You might, but I couldn't tell you."

"You don't have to."

"Thank you," he whispers, and drops his head against Sirius' shoulder. "_Thank you._"

"Aw, it was no problem at all. Only took three years, you know." But Sirius is grinning, and Remus pulls away and hits him on the arm.

Sirius retaliates by shoving him backwards, and he cracks his head against the wall.

"Oh. Sorry." Sirius' fingers find the back of Remus' head and run through his hair, gently touching the spot.

"It's okay," Remus whispers, and closes his eyes.

Sirius looks at him for a moment, and decides this is as good a time as any. Maybe even better.

He leans forward and brushes his lips softly, gently against Remus' cheek, right by his nose. Again and again, he kisses him, his tongue softly licking the salty tears away. He savors Remus' heartbeat, his soft intakes of breath, his sighs.

He pulls away, then, when there are no more tears left, and Remus' eyes are dry and wide.

His eyes flicker downwards and something flashes in Remus' eyes.

The door bursts open and James shouts something.

* * *

Sirius cannot concentrate on anything. He squirms in his seat, ignoring McGonagall's dirty look and James' questioning glance.

His eyes find Remus, eventually, linger on his soft smile as he laughs at something Peter's said. His mind wanders to places not entirely suitable for a Transfiguration classroom and he butchers his next spell, earning a harsh scold from McGonagall (meaning nothing) and a laughing glance from Remus (worth everything).

His eyes flutter closed of their own accord, then snap open.

He feels strangely out of sorts.

He knows exactly what he wants, and in some ways, that's worse.

He wishes it were fifth year again, with Remus crazy from gratitude and crazy from the full moon and not thinking straight at all.

--

"I," Sirius announces, "am at frayed ends."

Remus laughs, and it is the most beautiful thing Sirius has ever heard. "It's _loose_ ends, Sirius. Though in your case, frayed might be a bit better anyways. Why?"

Sirius smiles at his teasing, but shrugs. "Oh, reasons."

"Really? I hadn't gathered that."

Sirius blinks. He finds himself quite pathetic. He's glad James isn't here.

But Remus is still waiting.

"I dunno."

"Yes you do."

"You know what? I hate you sometimes."

"You love it."

Sirius cannot deny that, and he frowns.

"What is it, Sirius?"

Sirius hesitates, "I..." and, with movements sudden, not graceful in the least, grabs Remus' head and pulls him down roughly, smashing their lips together.

But for all his want, he freezes for a moment, his hands loosening slightly, giving Remus the chance to stop, to do whatever he wants.

But he sighs softly against Sirius' lips, mumbles, "what took you so long?" and kisses him back fiercely.

"_You_ could have done something too, you know," Sirius grumbles when they break apart. He rests his forehead against Remus' shoulder.

"I suppose. But I liked watching you squirm."

"That's a lie."

"Yes. It is." Remus laughs and Sirius throws his arms around him tightly, as if he will never let go.

* * *

"It's not forever," Remus says, more to himself than to Sirius, who is staring at him easily, but almost scared.

"Yes."

"Only for a week or two. So I can say goodbye to mum. You know how she gets. And then we can go find a flat."

"Yes."

"And there's that meeting on Monday. For the Order."

"Yes." Sirius' voice is dead but his eyes are burning.

"Dumbledore says to bring as many people as we can. That are, you know. Trustworthy."

"Frank and Alice are coming, Lily said." His eyes will not move from Remus'. They are asking, pleading, begging.

Remus suddenly yanks Sirius to him and kisses him roughly on the lips, as if to pull his essence up through their lips.

"I love you," he whispers, and the Platform fades away into a buzz of silence.

"Love you too, Moony." Sirius smiles crookedly and brushes his fingers across Remus' cheek.

Remus watches him walk away, dread pooling cold and harsh in his stomach. Watches him walk away, to light and dark and shades of grey. Watches him walk to choices and evil and death.

Remus sighs and goes to find his mother.


End file.
